Revolution
by Deb3
Summary: My salute to season 3. The CSIs declare their independence. Contains something for the fans of any character on the show except Stetler.


Title: Revolution

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: CSIM obviously is not mine. If it were, this already would have happened. I also do not own Jerry Bruckheimer, Ann Donahue, any newspaper in Florida, Entertainment Tonight, the Emmy Awards, or the writings of Thomas Jefferson.

Pairing: H/C, but it contains something for the fan of any character, with the exception of Stetler. Also Hagen, I guess, but he doesn't appear here. So Yelina fans, Eric fans, Speed fans, anybody except Stetler fans, I think you'll like it. Special treat inside for Nath.

A/N: This is my season 3 salute, a bit early, but I was just in the mood to write it tonight. Note that I have not yet watched my tape of Killer Date, so all the details of that episode, other than the fact that a "Ray is alive" teaser was introduced, are unknown. This has been building since the episode with the colossal "teenage athlete with a total knee replacement" error. I freely mix up and modify episode sequence, episode details, conversations, show facts, and a lot else. Warning: This story does not make sense, and you'll only give yourself a headache trying to work it out. Just go with it.

(H/C)

With professional, calm warmth, Alexx Woods examined the body before her. Horatio looked on with interest. "So there's nothing to identify him?" Horatio's tone oozed conviction that Alexx was about to pull a rabbit out of her autopsy table.

"There might be something that can help us." She ran the C-arm over his knee, and both she and Horatio studied the metal construct that appeared on the monitor.

"A total knee replacement," Horatio commented.

"Yes, and it would have a serial number to . . . THAT DOES IT!" Alexx put down the C-arm unit and stepped back firmly. "This is taking things too far. No doctor in his right mind would do this operation on someone this young, and if he did, the kid would hardly be an athlete anymore. This doesn't make sense. You hear me? It DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. I have had enough." Alexx planted her hands firmly on her hips, and her dark eyes flashed a challenge to every corner of the room.

Horatio was staring at her. "Alexx, take it easy."

She whirled to face him, and Horatio actually took a step back as she gesticulated right under his chin. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed it. The way we say the stupidest things sometimes, like we're following a script. The things we do. The ways we react to each other. The things that happen around here. Don't you see, Horatio? We're being managed. Somebody out there is trying to control us!"

Horatio's expression faded from surprised concern to analytical brilliance, and his head tilted slightly. Alexx waited patiently for him to catch up with her, and he finally saluted her assessment with a brief nod. "What do you suggest we do, Alexx?"

"I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to have a revolution. I'm going to pretend that this TKR doesn't exist on this kid and use something mundane like dental records or missing persons details. From this point on, I refuse to cooperate with idiocy and inaccuracies, professional or personal." She stepped back from Horatio and directed her challenge to the room at large. "Did you hear that? I'm declaring independence, right now. And I'll give you the reason, too. One reason will sum up everything. THIS IS STUPID. And I'm not going along with it anymore. So put that in your pipe and smoke it, whoever you are."

Horatio came alongside her, shoulders squared, head up. "I'll join you. I have the right to my own life, not one scripted by someone else." They stood there, an army of two, in mutual defiance. Horatio's head tilted suddenly. "Do you hear that, Alexx?"

Alexx strained her own ears. "Very distant, but it sounds like someone shouting, 'Cut!'"

Horatio's blue eyes, suddenly laughing and mischievous instead of brooding, met hers. "Well, Alexx, you know what to do, then."

She gave her hair a defiant toss. "But only because I was going to anyway." She picked up the scalpel.

(H/C)

The memo appeared on the bulletin board the next morning.

To: All personnel of MDPD who care to read it

Subject: Declaration of Independence

When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the bands which have connected them with another and assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

The history of the present authorities, whosoever they may be, attempting to control the actions and thoughts of this department is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in Direct Object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny and denial of consistency or common sense. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.

They have repeatedly forced members of this department to act in a manner contrary to the established character of that person. They have crammed into the mouths of the members of this department dialogue that is often at best corny and at worst blatantly stupid. They have forced professional inaccuracies and errors in fact upon us at our work. They have strained plausibility to the breaking point, both in personal interactions, in situations, and in facts. They have introduced new members who add little and removed old members who added much. They have instituted all of these changes without our consent or even our input.

We therefore do solemnly publish and declare that the members of this department are, and of a right ought to be, free and independent people and that they are absolved from all allegiance to any former Powers That Be who have heretofore imposed these constraints on them against their own will and without their input.

Signed:

Alexx Woods, ME

Lieutenant Horatio Caine

A pen was attached for further signing. On the first day alone, over 500 people added their signature.

(H/C)

Yelina entered the crime scene as Stetler exited. "Are we on for this weekend?" he asked her.

Yelina stopped and gave Stetler her steely-eyed stare, then suddenly dropped it for a more natural and believable expression. Reschooling features dominated by some anonymous PTB for years took work, and she was still getting the hang of it. "Are you crazy? We're at a crime scene, Rick. An officer was just murdered, a brother on the force. Do you really think I'd be petty enough to be primarily concerned with my social life at this point? Call me later, off the clock. Or on second thought, don't. I'll be spending this weekend putting in some quality time with Ray, Jr." She stalked off, then deliberately forced herself to relax into a less staged and more natural stalk, one that implied merely disgust, not a puppet on strings.

Horatio gave her an approving but purely familial smile as she approached. "We think he was shot right here and managed to drive off."

Yelina studied the ground. "I'd say you're right, Horatio. I'm sorry I haven't pulled my weight in the police work lately, by the way."

He gave her an understanding smile, doing her the service of removing his sunglasses. "It's okay, Yelina. We've all been hardly at our best. I'll work on processing things here, but I'll call you later, when we're not working. I want to explain to you about that girl you saw me with earlier."

Yelina gave him a natural, relaxed smile. It looked much better than her predatory, pasted one. "You don't have to explain, Horatio. I'm sure there is an explanation, and that's enough. How could I not trust you?"

"You deserve an explanation, though. But later. Right now, we have a cop killer to catch." Horatio put his sunglasses back on.

(H/C)

"Ratings for CSI:Miami, which had been lagging, unexpectedly doubled at last night's new episode. Medium was left in the dust. Jerry Bruckheimer, asked about the unexpected events of last week's episode, merely replied, 'We have a top-class show, and we were always sure that the lagging ratings were merely an aberration.' He refused to comment upon the rumor that several of CSIM's writers had walked out after last week's episode aired."

(H/C)

"Knock, knock, knock." Calleigh stopped tentatively at the office door.

Horatio looked up and gave her a warm smile as their eyes met. "Hello, Calleigh."

"You left a message that you wanted to see me?"

He nodded. "Please, have a seat." She sat down in front of his desk, and he put his hands on the desk between them, lacing and unlacing the fingers, testing the fit. "I wanted to apologize for spending so little time with you and the rest of the team lately. I don't know what's been wrong with me. You know how much I value you as a coworker and as a friend, Calleigh." The tone hesitated slightly before the word friend.

"I know. I've done plenty of stupid things myself, lately. I've ignored you, I've been spending so much time working with Ryan, and then seeing Agent Elliot, but the expression on my face at times when I looked in the mirror made me want to hit myself. So smug." She squared her small but sturdy shoulders, and her eyes flashed Southern fire. "I refuse to be smug. Hear that, whoever you are?" She waited a second, then shook her head. "I wish we'd stop hearing those people in our heads saying 'cut!' That's the worst part of this whole revolution."

Horatio tilted his head, suddenly going analytical. "What's the best part?"

Calleigh studied her hands suddenly. They were hidden in her lap, below the edge of his desk, but they, like his, were lacing and unlacing. Horatio spoke again, the velvet voice warm and hardly analytical now. "What's the best part, Calleigh?"

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "Getting to spend time with you again, even if it is . . ." The comment died, horrified at itself.

"Only on the job?" he finished. She nodded mutely. "Calleigh, tell me something. Do you really have feelings for Elliot, or was that just something forced on you?"

"If I never saw him again, I wouldn't care," she stated firmly. His eyes fell to his own hands, fingers intertwined, not separating now, just holding the bond, cradling it among them. "Do you really have feelings for Yelina, Horatio?"

He gave her a crooked grin. "Of course, as family. As my brother's widow and my nephew's mother. But anything else, Calleigh, hasn't been me. It's been them. I hated the words and the looks even while I was saying them and giving them. She did, too. She's so much less stiff now. We're enjoying being friends. Every now and then, though, I'd steal a glance your way, Cal. I never stopped watching you. Deep inside, the real me, I mean. It was always there."

Calleigh smiled at him. "Tell me something, Horatio. The day of the sniper case, when I said I didn't look good in black, and you said, 'I beg to differ,' was that really you, or was it script?"

He unlaced his hands and extended them across the desk, stopping halfway. "That was the most honest line the real me has said in three years."

She brought her own hands onto the top of the desk, mating them with his, bridging the distance. "Know what my most honest line was?"

His eyes crinkled at her. "Tell me," he invited.

"Handsome."

(H/C)

Eric Delko sat in the lab muttering to himself, scribbling down lines on paper, then scratching them out. Ryan entered behind him. "What's wrong, Delko?"

"Why can't I ever have a meaningful relationship with a woman?"

Ryan looked like he wished he could rewind the scene and avoid coming back in momentarily, but then he shook the feeling off. "Come on, Delko. Women love you."

Eric shook his head. "Anyone I really started to care about either dies, or turns out to be a criminal, or isn't straight, or something. It's those controllers. They don't think I'm capable of a healthy, successful relationship." He stood up, knocking the paper to the floor. "And they're WRONG!"

Ryan picked up the paper and glanced at it before handing it back. "Names?"

"I was writing down all the names of women I've known, trying to see if there was any real relationship with any of them. Not one." He sat back down. "Why? What is it about me that is doomed here?"

Ryan sat down next to him. "You're going at it backwards, Delko. Nothing's wrong with you, but plenty is wrong with them. So instead of names, you need criteria. Write down a check list of what those women didn't have, and screen the candidates better."

Eric stared at him. "A check list for dating?"

Ryan pulled out a healthy sheaf of post-its from his pocket. "I use check lists for everything. Just in case I might forget something. It really works."

Eric shrugged. "How could it make things worse? Okay, let's see. She shouldn't be criminal."

"She should be straight," Ryan offered.

"She shouldn't die." Eric started writing faster as the list came to him. A shadow fell across the page, and he turned around suddenly. "SPEED!" He jumped off the chair to hug his colleague, then stopped halfway, anger replacing the joy. "I thought you were dead. How could you do that to us, you . . ." He sputtered, failing to find an adequate word.

"I was dead," Speed assured him. "But I changed my mind."

Ryan stared at the man he'd never met. "Changed your mind?"

"I heard about the revolution, you see. So if you all have the right to shake off the chains of stupidity, so do I."

"That was a pretty stupid way to go," Ryan said. Horatio slid into the lab behind Speed, a silent shadow.

"Damn those controllers." Eric looked like he wanted to hit the invisible powers now instead of Speed.

Speed shook his head. "The plot wasn't stupid. It was actually in character for me. I was stupid. Should've changed after Dispo Day. I should have learned my lesson. So I decided to come back and try being a CSI again." Eric closed the distance, and the two friends hugged as Ryan stood to one side.

"On one condition." Horatio's quiet voice broke into the moment, and Speed nearly jumped out of his newly-resurrected skin. "If you ever get killed again due to carelessness with your gun, Speed, you're fired. Understood?"

Speed gave Horatio his old grin. "Loud and clear, H."

(H/C)

"Ratings continue to soar for CSI:Miami. In a recent interview, David Caruso said, 'It's so natural to play Horatio. Sometimes, you get to know a character so well that you just become him. Sometimes, you have to stop trying to fit a character into your script and just let the script be decided by the characters. I'm really enjoying every moment on the set this season, as are all of my colleagues."

Calleigh and Horatio were just getting into the Hummer after a romantic dinner at a beach cafe. Horatio was holding the door open for her when he suddenly stiffened, his head coming alert. "What is it, Handsome?"

He raced around to his side of the Hummer and jumped in. "A plane is about to explode on the beach after a crash landing."

Calleigh reached across and captured his arm in both of her hands as he frantically tried to fasten his seatbelt. "What is it with you and explosions? Do they shine a giant H against the sky or something? This is ridiculous, Horatio. You can't be everywhere at once."

Horatio pulled free from her restraint. "People need me." He switched the engine on, then braked to a halt almost immediately after starting to back out. "No!"

"What is it?" Calleigh tried to soothe him, but he seemed oblivious to her touch for the moment.

"There's another explosion about to take place. A hotel is scheduled for demolition, but there's a man being held captive who's fastened to a post in the basement." He looked at her helplessly, the tug-of-war carved into his granite features. "I can't make both of them in time. Which explosion do I go to?"

Calleigh reached over and switched off the Hummer. "Horatio, this is stupid. Listen to me. You're a CSI, not a superhero. Don't let them make you a caricature of yourself. What you should do is simply do the best thing for both locations."

"And what's that?" he asked, like a confused child.

"Call 911." She pulled out her own cell phone and handed it to him. "Send the appropriate authorities to each location. When they have a crime scene, you can be there, but you can't personally attend every explosion in Miami."

He stared at her, stunned by the simplicity and sense of her answer. She pointedly reached across and dialed 911 for him, then waited patiently while he gave details of the two pending explosions to the operator. "Thank you," he said meekly, returning the phone.

"Anytime, Handsome." She reached over to touch him on the cheek. "Now, we were about to go somewhere to have some privacy."

He smiled at her and restarted the Hummer, pulling out of the parking lot into the street. In two other parts of Miami, emergency response teams were saving both the plane crew and the captive man, and Horatio for once left them to it.

(H/C)

Entertainment Tonight had an exclusive interview with Ann Donahue this week. When asked about the success of CSI:Miami since the new format, she said, "We don't consider it to be a new format. We have always been willing to take risks the other networks wouldn't, and I assure you, the direction this show is taking has always been under our firm control and still is. And all I can say is, brace yourselves for some major plot twists in future episodes." When asked for teasers on the plot twists, Donahue was either unwilling or unable to provide them, merely repeating, "We know, and we have always known, what we are doing. We appreciate the public's confidence in our product."

(H/C)

Stetler stormed through the door and stopped. Yelina was sitting calmly on the couch, not cringing at his approach. He was the one who cringed as he found himself looking straight down the barrel of her police special. "Get out, Rick," she said calmly.

"What? I live here."

"Not any more. This is my house. Your bags are packed and right over there."

He smirked, starting toward her. "You wouldn't use it." Her eyes stopped him.

"Care to bet your life on it?"

Stetler decided that he didn't. He picked up the suitcases, but turned back to her. "I'll be back after you've had some time to think things out." And he would catch her at some point without that gun, and then he'd remind her of why she should fear him.

Yelina actually laughed, a sound Stetler couldn't recall hearing before. She seemed so different lately. "Rick," she said, making it an icy promise, "if you ever set foot through that door again and if you ever lay a hand on me or my son again, I'll kill you. And I know exactly where I'd place the first shot." It wasn't a threat. The gun was backed up by the steel of her voice.

Stetler actually ran out the door.

(H/C)

Eric, Speed, and Ryan entered the bar and surveyed the women. "Blonde or brunette?" Eric asked.

"The blonde," Speed suggested.

"The brunette." Ryan was just as definite.

Eric shrugged. "Lot of help you guys are." He selected the blonde first, walking up and perching on the stool next to her. He pulled out his list. "Um, excuse me, but have you ever committed or do you ever intend to commit any crimes?"

She turned to study him. "For a pick up line, I have to score it 10 for originality."

Eric flashed his disarming smile at her. "Would you answer the question, please?"

"No," she said firmly.

Eric started to make a check mark. "So you haven't committed any crimes?"

"No, I will not answer the question." She stormed off her bar stool.

Speed looked at Ryan. "This check list system really works for you?"

"Well, I haven't actually tried it on dating, but it works for most things in life."

Speed rolled his eyes. "Delko, just be yourself."

Eric nodded, crumpling the list and letting it fall to the floor. "Right. No offense, Ryan, but this isn't my style." He went over to the brunette. "Hey. Could I buy you a drink?"

"Only if you buy me one, too." The gruff voice at his shoulder turned out to be attached to a husky man, at least 6 feet 4 with the body of a weightlifter. The man stared at him and sat down on the other side of the woman, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Sorry. Really. I didn't realize . . ." Eric backed off.

"Need to add available to that check list," Ryan suggested.

"No!" Eric shook his head. "I am not working from a check list anymore. You're almost as bad as 'them.'" Ryan cringed.

"Look, man, it'll happen sooner or later," Speed assured him. Eric's cell phone rang at that moment. "See?"

Eric answered, and both eyebrows went up slightly. "Sure, that would be great. Friday night? See you then." He hung up, turned his back on the bar, and headed for the exit.

"Gonna tell us who, or do we have to trace it?" Speed cracked as he and Ryan followed their friend.

Eric tossed one word over his shoulder as he left the bar and the bar scene. "Yelina."

(H/C)

"CSI:Miami set an astounding record last night, eclipsing all previous performances by any show in television history. The Nielson ratings announced this morning that every monitored television in America was turned to the CBS runaway hit on Monday night."

(H/C)

Horatio chased the man, steadily closing the gap. "Keaton! Bob Keaton! Freeze!"

Keaton turned to face Horatio's gun. "Look, Caine, there are things you don't know."

"On the contrary, I know that you escaped from prison, and I'm taking you back there now." Horatio smiled at Calleigh, who came up beside him with her own gun drawn. "Cover me, Cal."

"Always," she replied, smiling at him even while her eyes never left Keaton.

Keaton backed up a step as Horatio approached with handcuffs. "Caine, if you'll work with me, I could tell you a lot. Your brother Ray isn't dead."

Horatio stopped in his tracks, frozen by the enormity of the statement. In the next second, he unfroze. "Give me a break." The intensity in his quiet voice had the effect of a yell. "I've put up with plenty over the last three years from these controllers, but no longer. That's from them, not you, and I've had enough." He stepped around Keaton and snapped the cuffs into place. "You have the right to remain silent. Should you choose to give up that right, I have the right to tune you out and not let some anonymous, unfeeling Power out there manipulate my actions and emotions like I'm nothing more than a puppet." Horatio struck his famous pose and removed his sunglasses. "Does EVERYBODY here understand these rights as I have read them?"

Keaton was speechless. Calleigh was not, but her eyes had more than enough eloquence for the moment. If anybody was yelling 'cut,' neither Horatio nor Calleigh heard it. Together, they marched Keaton to the waiting squad car, a perfect team on the job, as well as off it.

(H/C)

Horatio was pouring coffee, first for Calleigh, then for himself, when Speed's excited voice demanded the attention of everyone in the break room. "We've got real TV!"

All crowded around the set. Sure enough, there was a genuine channel from a genuine network, not the packaged, scripted stuff that they always seemed to get. "And wrapping up the Emmy Awards last night, it was a runaway victory for both David Caruso and Emily Procter as their show …" The screen died into fuzz, then reappeared with a pleasant, fictional face.

"Damn," Speed said. "We really had it for a moment." Muttering under his breath, he switched off the set in disgust and exited the break room.

Calleigh turned to Horatio. "Can I ask you a question, Handsome?"

"Anything." His eyes backed up the promise.

"Have you ever in your life heard of David Caruso or Emily Procter?"

His arms tenderly engulfed her, and her spirit found safe harbor within them. "Never, but whoever they are, and no matter what they won, they don't have it half as good as we do."


End file.
